Deus Ex Combat
by Wilson Hill
Summary: Formally called JC vs Mario, I have decided to expand this, adding aditional scenes of JC fighting whover is requested whenever I can.
1. JC VS Mario

I wrote this in the wee hours of the morning, so it's not my best work. It spawned as a result of the fact that on there was character battle, and one of the matchups was between Mario and JC Denton. Everyone on the Deus Ex forum believed that in a fair fight, JC would win, but of course this poll was a mere popularity contest. I began to wonder what an actual battle between the two characters would be like, and found them more evenly matched than I expected.

* * *

**JC Denton vs. Mario**

"Your target is an Italian plumber who calls himself 'Mario'," informed Alex over the Infolink. "Orders are as follows: Find him, shoot him, repeat step two."

"Any info on what he's packing?" asked JC, struggling to remove the grate covering his planned entrance route into a eight-story tall warehouse. Tired of messing with it, he mentally activated a strength augmentation. The sudden burst of enhanced power always went strait to the head, and the UNATCO agent swooned for a split second before recovering himself and ripping the rusted metal right off of its wielding.

"Sources say he's alone and unarmed," replied Alex, "But we can't be sure. Proceed with caution; we don't know WHAT this guy is capable of. I'm sending you a picture over your Infolink so you know what to look for.

"Oh, an overweight plumber in overalls, scary," sighed JC sarcastically as he pulled up the image. His eyes were augmented with not only enhanced vision, but with a display panel that kept track of his weapons, ammunition, and was able to display images sent over his Infolink. All this was affectionately called his "HUD".

With that, he jumped down the ventilation shaft. He stuck out his arms, still blessed with strength by the extensive technology, and slowed his decent with the friction of his hands against the tight walls. When at last he dropped into a crouch onto of a large metal storage unit, he hadn't made a sound the whole journey.

Slipping a pair of binoculars out of his trench coat pocket, he scanned the large warehouse, looking for any sign of Mario. The place was mostly filled to the brim with steel boxes containing some kind of contraband or another; the one he was on now was the lowest, a row that ran across the east wall. He slowly crept along the stacked crates, careful to disturb nothing, but was not able to find a single trace of his target. A loud cry pierced the air, causing JC to whip around, his duster flailing in his wake, to see the source of the noise.

"Momma-mia, pizza-ria! Hey!" sang Mario as he affectionately patted the dough. JC smiled; his target was so occupied with his cooking and singing, he wouldn't even know death had come for him until his soul had already leaked from his fallen corpse.

JC unholsterd his pistol and clicked on the laser sight. Formally it had also been equipped with a scope, but the magnets used to attach it altered the spin of the bullets as they passed through the barrel and played hell on his aim. The agent slowly lined up the bright red dot against the back of the singing plumber's head, preferring to do this with a single shot. This was complicated by the fact that Mario was now twirling the pizza dough in the air and dancing to accompany his song.

"C'mon, just stand still," muttered JC under his breath. "I'm only trying to make it easy for you..."

"When the moon hits your eye," wailed Mario, switching to a romantic ballad. He twirled the dough in his fingers and flung it directly at JC. "... like a big pizza pie!"

"Idiot," grumbled Denton, firing a singly shot to take down the pizza dough. It fluttered to the ground, but Mario was already racing towards the metal crate JC was perched on.

Panicking slightly at the change of events, the anti-terrorist specialist stood up and started firing as best as he could while back pedaling. He tossed his pistol to the side and quickly reached for his assault rifle, but his arm went limp with what he saw next, the automatic weapon sprawling across the top of the container.

With barely a grunt, Mario had hefted himself into the air in a gigantic leap, soaring above Denton towards the roof of the warehouse.

"Alex," hissed JC as he stooped down for his gun. "Why didn't you tell me he had augmentations?"

"I didn't know," replied Alex, his shocked face appearing in the Infolink window. "You'd think we'd have tabs on that, but he must have gotten them off the black market some how." Mario had now reached the parabola of his flight and began to head back down. "From the looks of things, I'd say it's an extremely enhanced form of Leg Augmentation," continued Alex, as JC realized that Mario was coming down directly towards him. "because he can apparently jump easily six times his own height."

"No," snapped JC, as he quick dived to get out of the way once he realized Mario was actually trying to land ON him. "Friggin'" he continued, as he hit the edge of the metal container, rolling off of it as the sharp edge bit into his shoulder. "DUH!" he concluded, landing on his feet and firing his assault rifle up to where Mario stood.

Mario quickly jumped back up into the air, flying through a deadly hail of bullets from one stack to the next, eventually landing on an overhang that seemed to contribute some kind of resting quarters within the ware house.

"What the heck is the deal with this guy?" snapped JC, running as quickly as he could between the gigantic stacks of tall red metal towards a ladder that offered more traditional means of ascent.

"It's-ah me! Mario!" called the fat plumber from his ledge.

"I'm aware!" shouted JC, quickly pulling himself up the ladder built directly into the wall. He managed to get about twenty feet up when he looked up and saw Mario kick something that looked like... a gigantic turtle shell?... down the entrance to his platform.

"I'm starting to get sick of this," muttered JC, watching the turtle shell bounce between the wall and the metal container. Using his nanocomputers to time it just right, he leapt off the ladder, planted his feet against the metal crate that sat opposite him and jumped off once more, crossing diagonally above the turtle shell as it ricocheted about. He couldn't quite clear it though, so he flung his feet below him, and literally jumped off of the turtle shell rather than crash into it.

This resulted in an unexpected burst of vertical acceleration, as he was almost literally "popped" strait up the remaining fifty feet, and luckily managed to slide within the trap doorway that the ladder led to.

JC landed hard on his feet and collapsed on the overhang, panting from confusion and exhaustion. He had no time to rest though when he saw that Mario was already leaping into the air once more to squash him. Realizing he had dropped his assault rifle somewhere during his frantic jump, he reached into his coat's inner pocket and tightened his hand around a small device.

Meanwhile, thirty feet up, Mario had brought his fist up and against the ceiling, pounding the metal with a reverberating clang. The force of him striking the obstacle propelled him downwards, nearly twice as quickly as he had gone up. Mario looked down, his mustache whipping about gleefully as he approached JC's prone form.

JC hit the "arm" button on the LAM, then let it slip from his grasp. He quickly started rolling like a barrel away from it, hoping to get out of the main blast range. The whistling beeping of the grenade chirped behind him as he made his hasty retreat, briefly muted by the thud of Mario landing before the explosive device detonated.

JC hadn't been able to get to far from the LAM before it detonated, but fortunately his back was to it. He was propelled across the somewhat slick floor to the edge of the overhanging platform, and went over it.

Mario was flung back into the air a short distance and unto his back. "That's-ah major boo-boo!" he cried woefully. He got up coughing and sputtering, pain radiating from various burns and bruises. He staggered to his feet, and went over to the side of the platform to see where Denton landed. Mario was enraged to discover a pair of hands clutching to the edge.

JC had activated his Strength augmentation just in time to give himself a starting grip on the ledge, his legs kicking at approximately seventy feet of open air as his remaining bioenergy depleted. He began hoisting himself up after catching his breath, when a toasted fat man (which is the worst kind) ran up and attempted to stomp his fingers off their perch.

Mario's foot slammed into JC's right hand three times before he let go, his knuckles cracking and possibly breaking under the abuse. The plumber was about to start hammering at the other hand, as JC reached into his belt and pulled out a shuriken throwing knife. Mario's foot went up, but the small dagger struck him directly between the eyes before his foot could come down. Without another word, Mario's knee buckled, and he went tumbling past JC towards the floor below.

The UNATCO Agent was happy for his victory of course, but felt celebrations would be in short order since he wasn't able to pull himself up with just the one hand. The fingers of his right appendage had manage a lucky throw, but they were useless now, especially since they had grasped the blade by the wrong end, evidenced by the bleeding scars that now ran across his palm. Looking down, JC noticed that about ten feet down and five feet away was the top of one of the monstrous stacks of containers, filled with unknown contents. He swung his legs forward, then back, letting go with his left hand to send himself flying unto the box.

"Alex," grunted JC as he felt his hand begin to throb and swell. "Would it be at all possible to send someone to pick me up?"

"I'll send in the clean up crew; now that you took out Mario the rest of the security system shouldn't be a problem."

"And just what," asked JC, looking at the vast piles of steel bins, "is being stored in this warehouse again?"

"Er, well, we believe Mario was smuggling mushrooms for the terrorists."

"Mushrooms?"

"Correct. Magic Mushrooms is what the report said."

"Would it be at all possible to tell the clean up crew to just shoot me?" sighed JC.


	2. JC VS Barney and Preditor

A heavily injured augmented agent was brought into the medical lab and carefully set down. Jamie soon walked in, followed by an aide carrying a tray. The tray clashed to the floor, sending various surgical supplies flying as the woman rose her hands to her mouth and gasped, trying to hold back a scream. Jamie felt as bad as the young nurse felt, but tried to hold back the emotions as he briskly walked over to his friend, barking orders left and right. Jamie knew with cold horror that had he not already been informed of who his patient was, he would not even have suspected the true identity of his old friend.

Hours later, JC Denton woke up. He had a mild headache, and his throat was parched dry, but other than that he seemed fine. A light turned on next to the bed JC was laying on. "Ah, looks like your awake." JC winced from the harsh light, and peered at the dark silhouette above him.

JC recognized who it was, and tried to speak, but could only cough. He fought with his lungs briefly, and finally managed to gasp out the word "Water."

The man next to JC smiled (but only on the inside) and said "Sure." He walked to a sink far out of JC's range of vision, filled a paper cup, and brought it back over. The shadow raised the cup to JC's lips and poured, providing southing relief to his withered tounge. "You did real good out there today kid, I'm proud of you." JC coughed and sputtered, sending sprays of water all around. He was still a bit thirsty, but at least not he could speak.

"Paul," JC gasped as soon as he was able. "I thought you were in Hong Kong?"

"I was, but I got sent back."

"What did you do?"

"Never mind that now, you have some new objectives."

"Already? I nearly died on that Mario punk. Then the troops arrived…didn't realize I was being sarcastic when I was shouting, 'just shoot me damnit!' Took over thirty slugs to the head…"

"Better get used to it, because you're going out again. You are to report to Manderly for your debriefing as soon as you are up, collect some supplies from the armory, and head out." JC dropped his head back on the pillow in despair. "Of course," Paul grinned, "if you need a few more minutes, I could tell you everything I know about your upcoming mission."

* * *

JC stepped off the helicopter, wearing a new set of body armor and his spare overcoat. The air was thick with moisture as the agent stepped over a fallen log and ducked into the underbrush, waiting for the chopper to vanish. As the sound of twirling blades faded into the night, a view screen blurred into existence in the corner of JC's vision.

"Alright JC, just for review, you are to locate your two targets and terminate them. Your first target has been luring small children into his cult for years, he may tray to use them as hostages. The second one, well… He's more likely to find out. Alex, out." The pasty visage disappeared, and JC was left alone in his thoughts. He mentally pulled up a map of the forest he was in, then started making his way through the bushes.

After half an hour of slow, silent travel, he finally came to a clearing, where his primary target stood, surrounded by the faces of numerous four to eight year olds, dancing around a fire. This…This _beast_ had been defrosted in the later 20th century, and had since converted many young minions to his dark cause, and then infecting them with diabetes. Despite this, if he went for a direct confrontation, that would risk the children; they would do anything to protect their master.

Finally, JC could only come up with one solution; frighten the children enough to cause them to run away, and then he could take down the ancient reptile without their interference. The agent crept as close as he could without being detected, then leapt from the bushes, whipping out his pistol.

"Yo fatty!" JC screamed. "Where's the cream filling!" The childish sing-song proclamations of "I love you, you love me…" were quickly reduced to a hail of terrified screams as the bullets erupted from JC's gun and plunged into the dinosaur's purple flesh. The young ones fled in fright, as the UNATCO standard issue sidearm sang a song of its own. But the great beast was not to be felled so easily. With a roar that shook the earth like water, the foul creature lunged at JC, jaws snapping fiercely as its essence spilled from the numerous holes unto the jungle floor.

JC was literally swept off the ground as the dinosaur was upon him, a great monstrosity with the wrath of nations. And then it was over. As soon as he was lifted up, JC was slammed back down, the great behemoth on top of him. The antiterrorist freed his arm and fired several more shots into his opponent's head, only to realize that the beast was fallen, never to stir again. When JC started examining the body to figure out why the dinosaur would suddenly keel over, he saw a long, thin spear protruding from the back of the beast's head.

"JC, get out of there NOW!" Alex was once again obscuring JC's vision, and seemed to be in a talkative mood.

"What's up?" JC replied, struggling to free himself from underneath the giant lizard.

"The secondary target, it's found you. It must have been aiming for you but hit the primary when he tackled you. It won't be long before he sets up his next shot…" As Alex was saying this, a second spear flew silently through the air and pierced JC's right forearm, sliding between the bones and making itself comfortable. Grunting in pain, JC ripped the spear pinning his arm down from his flesh, freeing his limb and dragging dirt and filth into his blood stream simultaneously. Trying to keep his mind off the fact he would soon have a raging infection in his arm, JC used the spear as leverage to roll the purple dinosaur off of him and quickly started retreating to the trees. Another spear flew from the darkness, but harmlessly placed itself through the overcoat without causing JC need to pause.

"This guy can't be very good right?" JC thought aloud, hoping that it was loud enough for the constant monitoring systems to pick it up and send to Alex. "I mean, he's missed a killing shot on me three times in a row…"

"Based on the speed that the last two spears came at you, and what we know about this guy's equipment," Alex replied "I'd say he's about three hundred yards off. Not terribly shabby aiming." JC balked.

"How could he find a straight line to hit me from at three hundred yards?" JC demanded. "We're in the middle of the forest here!"

"I don't know," Alex stated, though his voice was confused. "All I can tell you is that this guy is a hunter, I mean a real predator. He likes to kill for sport, and has highly advanced weapon technology."

"Sport?" JC whispered when he found some thick underbrush to hide in. "Sport… He missed me three times…"

"Right. Well, he got you in the arm pretty good."

"Nailed me in the arm," JC confirmed, wincing as he felt the deep wound with his fingers. He was dripping blood, and was afraid it would make him easier to track. "Nailed me in the arm, likes to hunt for sport… Couldn't have hit me from three hundred yards, to much in the way… What does it all mean?"

"You got me, I'm just giving you the numbers."

"He must be toying with me. With us," JC replied hoarsely. "If he hunts for sport, then he wouldn't have been trying to snipe me. Not a challenge. He purposely prevented the dinosaur from hurting me to much, would have ruined his fun…"

"Yea, about that," said Alex. "Manderly saw the footage and says that since you didn't technically kill him, your not getting the op bonus for…"

"Concentrate damn it!" JC barked, louder than he wished he had. "He killed the dino, then hits me in the arm. He was trying to immobilize me. He decreased the power of his spear gun or whatever the hell, and screwed up the last shot, to make me think he was further away…that I could get away easier."

"So…" Alex said, trying to follow the line of logic. "Where does that place the target?"

"Right above me," JC replied, and quickly pulled out his assault rifle to fire off a steady stream of bullets into the branches hanging above his head. Small bits of wood and leaves fell from above, obscuring his vision, but over the roar of his gun he heard the cry of some strange, non-earth beast. A heavy thump some ten yards away told JC everything he needed to know about the location of his enemy. He quickly spun and aimed at the sound, unleashing a hail of lead at the general area.

During his exchange with Alex, JC's eyes had adapted to the near total darkness of the jungle quite nicely. He was nearly blinded, however, when a great beam of light erupted from his target area. He held up the gun, ceasing fire merely to protect his vision, raising the weapon to his face to block the light. What JC then realized to be some kind of plasma bolt connected with the assault rifle, melding together various mechanical parts. Frustrated, JC tried pulled the trigger again to no avail before throwing down the now useless cannon.

Sensing what was coming next, JC knelt down and scooped up a branch thick with leaves off the ground and wielded it in front of him. His prediction proved accurate; the heavy item barely made the trip in time to intercept the next plasma bolt headed for him. JC threw the burning branch away and took off running, clicking on his speed aug while ducking and weaving between trees as plasma bolts erupted all around him. Finally he came back to the well illuminated clearing, to where he could actually see. He ran to the far side of the area, scaring off the children who had returned and discovered the grisly fate of their leader.

Denton spun once he had reached his desired location and pulled out his combat knife, one of his few remaining armaments. He had a few LAMs, a gas grenade, various darts, and plus his pistol lay about five yards away where he had left it, but JC decided to ignore all that for now. All that mattered now was the arrogance of his opponent; would he be willing to go for the challenge of an honest knife fight?

The predator stalked into the clearing, his horrid visage covered by a thick metal mask. The beast laughed at the human, and decided to entertain its notions close combat. It would prove to be slightly more challenging than just char-broiling him with the cannon. But then, this human could run like none other…no, nothing to worry about. The predator smiled as it lifted off its mask, deactivated its cannon, and flicked out its wrist blade.

The two warriors stood for a moment, the tension building in the silent night air. Then, with their war cries reaching into the skies, they charged simultaneously. JC leapt over the flames of the bonfire, the blaze kissing his legs and topcoat as he sailed forward, lunging with his blade. The hunter met him in mid air, tackling him over the smoke and plunging them both into the fiery ashes.

JC switched on his Environmental Resistance and Ballistic Protection to spare his flesh from the knife and flames, and his opponent either matched his augmentations or was naturally immune. The alien sat on JC's stomach and slashed at his chest with the wickedly curved wrist blade, but wasn't able to break skin. JC swung one of his legs outward while stomping down with the other one, the end result of which was to send both himself and his attacker sprawling out of the flames. JC immediately turned of Env. Res. as soon as he was clear in order to save precious bioenergy, then attempted to plunge the knife into the predator's face. The alien was too quick for him, however, and began trying to return the favor. The two of them rolled around the ground, digging deep scratches into each other but not able to penetrate farther. JC's bioenergy, which had been recharged to full when he had returned to UNATCO HQ, was now nearly depleted, and once that happened the hunter was sure to make short work of him.

Seconds before his Ballistic Protection was to deactivate, JC rolled hard to get himself out from underneath his opponent, dropped his knife, and went scrabbling across the ground. The alien scrambled to its feet then leapt on top of JC, trying to pin him down. The agent continued struggling despite this, and soon reached out his hand to feel a familiar cold metal at the tips of his fingers…

Meanwhile, however, the hunter found it was having a much easier time of stabbing the human, as his blade was able to dig into the flesh now that the skin slackened and yielded to the ongoing assault. JC managed to roll onto his back, but his attacker was not allowing him to escape, and was now trying to slit open his belly with his blood covered razor. The monstrosity, sensing its victory close at hand, opened its mandible mouth and let loose a vicious scream. JC took this opportunity to jam the barrel of his freshly recovered pistol down into the extraterrestrial's throat, and pull the trigger.

The predator's body stiffened, but didn't move, not even from reflex. JC tried readjusting his weapon, but when he again fired all that issued forth was a mild _click_. His ammunition was spent. As this realization hit JC's mind, the body of his enemy loosened, then collapsed on top of him, already beginning to cool as the flow of hot blood began to slow from its body.

"Good job JC," Alex was back on the Info Link, hopefully with some good news. "We'll send a chopper to pick you up. We've already dispatched a unit to round up the children. With some therapy, they should be able to get over what they saw today. See you back at the base."


	3. Third Fight

Denton felt that he was familiar with danger. Hell, by now, he could have gotten married and had three kids with her. But the situation before him now defied all odds.

Standing with imposing authority infront of him was a tall glass of water with futeristic armor that was able to regenerate it's shields. Standing to his left flank was a nerdling with a suit designed to handle the roughest of conditions. Standing on his rear right was a war scarred veterin, a man whose name seemed to spell doom for all his enemies. Every last one of them had a shotgun carefully trained on JC. And due to the triangle that they stood around him in, they could feel free to fire without hitting each other.

The UNATCO agent was afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to sweat. He had his arms rigid behind his head with his fingers tightly interlocking each other. On a desperate whim, JC tried to defuse the situation with a bit of levity.

"So," he began, "Where are all the chicks?"

All hell broke loose.

**SIX HOURS AGO**

JC had a bottle of pain killers in one hand and a bag of ice to his head in the other as he staggered into Manderley's office. He slumped into an official looking but fairly uncomfortable chair and pushed the bottle of pills into his pocket.

"You ready for the field again, soldier?" Manderley's voice was warm, but the look JC gave in return was not.

"I've had four hours of sleep since my last mission," JC said slowly, making sure no hint of his situation was lost. "And I'm including when I passed out in the hellicopter."

"And believe me, the governenment is grateful for your efforts,"

"I do not believe my doctor has cleared me for field work yet," added JC. "_Ten minutes_" he thought to himself, "_before I fall asleep whereever I am_". He then began a mental debate on whether he wanted the hard cot set up in his office or the plush carpet on Manderley's floor. The owner of said carpet was launching into a delicately crafted but unheard speech about loyalty and how we all have to sacrifice things and just that very morning his favorite parking spot was taken and so on.

JC fell into a light doze, his sunglasses preventing Manderly from seeing his drooping eyes. Several minutes later the agent's head dropped onto his chest, and then woke up suddenly as Manderly shouted "Good, I'm glad you've decided to accept the mission!"

"Wha?" Denton asked, looking around.

"What is your task, you ask? Here are the basics; our pilot will fly you down to a research facility in New Mexico. We have reason to believe that..."

**FIVE AND A HALF HOURS LATER**

JC Denton stepped out of the helicopter, his brother's spare trench coat draping his shoulders. He walked across a barren parking lot and into the reception room for Black Mesa Research facilities, feeling grateful for the air conditioning as the cool air swept over him. As the glass doors slid closed behind him, a security guard with BARNEY emplozend across his badge stepped forward and waved JC through a metal detector. It sang as he stepped through it.

"Could you please remove any metallic items you may be carrying, keys, loose change..."

"I have metallic implants setting off the detectors," JC replied to the guard. He had to suffer the embarrassment of a frisk job, but once that was done, he was in; completely unarmed and without body armor, but he was in.

Walking towards the elevator, the security guard right behind him, Denton suddenly stopped, turned around, gestured through the glass doors and asked, "Hey, what's that?"

"What's what?" Barney replied, taking a step towards the exit to try and see from JC's angle. JC silently reached forward and slid the service pistol out of the guards holster.

"Could have sworn I heard something," added the Agent as he slid the weapon into the side pocket of his coat. "I'm probably just paranoid though."

Barney nodded before turning back around. "You look like hell, pal; they must be working you half to death."

"You have no idea," replied JC, heading once more to the elevator. After the first step, he felt a tug on the right side of his coat. His hand reached instinctively to pat the gun in his pocket, but heard the click of the gun cocking first.

"Don't bother checking," stated Barney. "You're not the only one with light fingers." This caught JC entirely off guard.

"If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"I hadn't noticed it - nice and slow. I hadn't noticed it until I realized my side arm was missing, then I noticed that your jacket had a bulge that hadn't been there before;" Barney replied as JC slowly inched his hands into the air. As his hands came to be equal to his ears, JC ducked down low then propelled himself backwards, his hands coming up to snatch the gun away.

It took at most three seconds to snatch the gun back and back hand Barney hard enough to send him sprawling across the floor. The agent then ran to the elevator, madly stabbing the down button to avoid further confrontation.

Barney groaned and opened his eyes to see the dark haired man in sun glasses dashing through the elevator doors and hitting a button. "Wait!" he screamed as the doors slid shut. "You don't want to do that!" but by then it was to late.

JC rocked back on his heels as the elevator slid smoothly down. Cheery elevator music was piped down, a generic melody he couldn't place. He sighed and checked his watch. 6:45. It was off, of course. That is to say, it was keeping the time perfectly; but because of the change in time zones, it was precisely fifty six years and two hours from standard local time. The elevator lurched to a halt. JC expected the doors to open, but realized that wasn't likely once the lights shut out as well.

He groaned in annoyance and began trying to find the emergency button in the dark, but reconsidered when he remembered he had broken into the building and anyone answering the emergency button would probably shoot him. It didn't matter anyway, of course, since the elevator started dropping again, only this time falling fast.

Grunting, JC remembered his vision aug, activated it, popped open the access hatch on the roof of the elevator and slipped out. Once there he spied the ladder slipping past quickly, activated his strength aug and gripped the sides of it, sliding down several yards as the elevator shot away from him. He finally stopped descending, and wrapped his legs around the ladder in order to free his hands.

JC was thinking of how exactly was the best way to pry open the door next to him, when to his shock it slid open and a silhouetted figure stood beyond it. "C'mon", said the figure, "or you'll be trying to open the door for another half hour."

Grateful but still cautious, JC jumped from his ladder to the newly opened entrance. "Paul," he said, straighting. "When did you get here?"

"About two days after you did," replied Paul, turning and beckoning JC to follow.

"What the hell are you talking about?" JC asked, falling in step behind his brother.

"Well, like Manderly tried telling you, everything taking place here is happening towards the end of the twentieth century. Something is keeping this place is a constant time loop."

"I recall."

"Well, since we're technically in the past, we couldn't communicate via infolink-"

"A nice change of pace."

"And so we set up a box to record everything that happened within the time bubble. When you failed to set time right, we recovered the box, and learned everything that had happened."

"Which is why you knew exactly where to meet me."

"Exactly," replied Paul, walking up to a door and punching in an access code. It slid open with a warm, mechanical voice greeting them. "Originally," Paul grinned, "you had to track down that security guard on the ground level and beat the code out of him." He stepped through and JC followed, amazed.

"So where did I go wrong?" JC asked, looking at all the various scientific equipment around them.

"It doesn't matter," Paul's voice was tight and cold. JC felt his stomach knotting.

"Manderly said one of the scientists and two travelers from different time periods sucked here needed to survive. Did one of them die?"

"Once we put this right, everything that happened the first time goes back to normal, and the other two guys will go back to their respective time lines in the future."

"Did I kill one of them?"

"I said it didn't matter." JC stopped cold.

"I didn't kill them," he said, as it dawned on him. "They killed me; I died."

Paul stopped as well, his voice shaking. "That's not going to happen this time, that's why I'm here." He took a pause. "How much do you know about the Black Mesa incident?"

"Only what they taught us at the academy," replied JC, checking his recently acquired pistol. "Some guy named Gordon Freeman..."

There was a sudden hiss and a flash of green light interrupting JC's explanation, and Paul turned to see that he had vanished.

------------

"Loaded a... a sample," JC continued, looking confused. "Into a machine wrong. What the hell?" He looked around, trying to get his bearings. "Paul?" he said aloud tentatively, then louder.

He was in a barren hallway, white walls with a white ceiling pouring white light on the white floor. It seemed extremely sterile, and JC wondered if it was some sort of medical facility. He walked down the hallway and went through a door, stepping into a small round room with a tall ceiling that connected various hallways together. The whole thing was reminding him of an ant hill.

As he walked forward, a door directly ahead of him slid open. All JC saw was the muzzle end of a shotgun pointed straight at him, and all he heard was a deep voice saying, "raise your hands; slowly." He did as he was asked, and heard the sounds of other doors opening around him. He glanced around as much as he dared, trying to figure out who was surrounding him.

Denton felt that he was familiar with danger. Hell, by now, he could have gotten married and had three kids with her. But the situation before him now defied all odds.

Standing with imposing authority in front of him was a tall glass of water with futuristic armor that was able to regenerate it's shields. Standing to his left flank was a nerdling with a suit designed to handle the roughest of conditions. Standing on his rear right was a war scarred veteran, a man whose name seemed to spell doom for all his enemies. Every last one of them had a shotgun carefully trained on JC. And due to the triangle that they stood around him in, they could feel free to fire without hitting each other.

The UNATCO agent was afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to sweat. He had his arms rigid behind his head with his fingers tightly interlocking each other. On a desperate whim, JC tried to defuse the situation with a bit of levity.

"So," he began, "Where are all the chicks?"

All hell broke loose.

JC ducked down as all three shot guns roared to life, then twisted and leapt at at the one in the orange body armor. Grabbing the man in glasses and holding him in front, JC was spared the brunt of the force as the other two assailants fired their shotguns mercilessly.

The scientist pulled mightily at JC's arm, the micro hydrolics in his armor groaning to output more strength. He had no way to gain leverage, however, and JC maintained a firm grasp.

The pellets pinged off the HEV suit as JC dragged the nerd backwards away from their two attackers. He heard a pair of doors sliding open behind him as he backed up, and made a simple plan; back into the next room, drag the guy he held into some cover, crack his neck, plan next step. He simply assumed that the door was automatically set to open when it was approached. This, as it turned out, was wrong.

JC of course had no way of noticing that a single pellet had smacked into a small square button with a down arrow on it. And although he was aware that at least one elevator in the building was out of order, he could only guess about the condition of the other elevators. The one immediately behind JC, as he realized as he stepped off the floor and onto nothing, was also out.

Gordon Freeman and JC Denton fell three stories down the shaft and landed on top of an elevator. The automatic locks, which had prevented the elevator from going down to the bottom of the base, snapped clean off from the sudden added weight and the two fighters began to plunge. JC was vaugeley able to register that he could hear shotguns going off somewhere above him.

The elevator came to a crushing stop on the bottom floor, as it's ceiling caved in and the two men slid into the small room. Incredibly, one of the lights was still on, pleasant music piped in from the speakers, and the elevator doors slid open with a charming ding.

JC activated his regeneration aug, which was the only thing that kept him from slipping into unconsciousness. He turned and looked at the man next to him, and heard a slightly effeminate voice emanating from his suit, as it detailed the procedures it was taking to save the owners life.

"What the hell is your deal?" JC asked, attempting to shift into a more comfortable spot. The man looked at him and said nothing. The UNATCO agent peered more carefully at the face of the man, partially obscured by glasses. He swore, then pulled up a list of images Manderly had downloaded into his data bank.

"_It is imperative," _Manderly had stressed earlier, "_That these three men survive. They all go on to do very important things in their life times._" JC checked one of the images against the man before him.

Glasses? Check.

Short, brown hair? Check.

Goatee? Check.

JC swore again.

**SOMEWHERE ON THE SURFACE**

Paul was tearing his way through Black Mesa, trying to figure out where his brother had done. It all seemed so obvious now.

The party of three had somehow learned what was going on, and was under the belief that JC was out to get them. They must have passed on information to themselves; perhaps analyzed the data storage box and sent as much information into the next cycle as they could, and thus was able to set up a trap. Paul stopped short.

No, that was silly. Probably JC was targeted by one of the random teleporting systems that had so recently been causing problems.

The agent stepped out a door and a blast of heat struck him in the face. He squinted his eyes as he walked out, wishing that he could see his brother; or at least have his brother's sun glasses. He was about to call out JC's name when he heard a roar of battle.

Squinting some more, he was able to tell that there was a short fence ahead of him. He jogged up, and saw that the fence seemed to stretch around a gigantic circle, in which was a huge depression. Several meters down and several more meters off, Paul could vaugly see shadows moving and lights flashing. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he began to realize the extent of the chaos.

The incident at Black Mesa was getting worse. Somehow, a loophole in time had been stuck in a 24 hour period here. Gordon Freeman had been getting up every morning, heading to work, causing a huge catastrophe, and fighting for his survival every day for over fifty years.

Except that Paul was now realizing that he wasn't in the same fight each time; the chaos of the resonance cascade scenario meant that gradually, things changed, and the evidence was playing out in front of him.

A huge behemoth creature that seemed to be part machine and part demon launched a missile at a small group of teleporting aliens. Shortly before their violent demise, they had each sent a bolt of greenish electricity arching over to a large armor clad thing with a glowing sword, who was shaking off the effects of their attack and was now charging the cyber-demon with a large glowing sword. The cyber-demon turned to meet the sword welder head on, but sword-guy was stopped dead in his tracks when a small creature jumped up and landed on his face. The cyber-demon instead turned around to greet a small group of small aliens firing plasma bolts at him, but they shrieked and ran as soon as he shot the first rocket.

Paul stumbled away from the fence with his head spinning. A horrible thought suddenly struck him; how long had he himself been stuck in the loop of time? How many times had he made this same discovery?

**SOMEWHERE BELOW THE SURFACE**

"Alright Mr. Freemon," JC said evenly, as they both crawled out of the elevator. "Let's go look for some med kits. I mean first aid kits." JC sighed as he remembered why he was so under equipped in the first place; Manderly was adamant that they not "pollute the past with future technology." That's why the sent the most technologically advanced person into fifty years ago. Idiot.

The agent couldn't figure out how to explain his position to the scientist; UNATCO wouldn't be formed for quite some time. He mulled it over for a moment as he scooped down one of two crowbars that were laying next to some open crates. He heard his companion pick up the other one. Good, now they were both armed; they had lost their weapons in the fall, and JC was utterly unable to find the guards government issued glo-

Hey, there was an idea. JC would have smiled, if he could, having solved his dilemma. "Don't worry," he called over his shoulder. "You can trust me. I work for the government." Simple, straight to the point. Only a sudden wosh from behind alerted JC to duck as the head of Freeman's crowbar almost nailed him.

JC spun around, bringing up the crowbar to block another strike from Freeman. "Hey!" JC barked, "I said I work for the government!" Apparently, Freeman had heard.

They scuffeled against each other for a while, trying to figure out how to beat the other one. JC should have been able to easily kill him, but this strangely was not the case. First of all, of course, JC's bio energy had run out before he was fully regenerated, meaning he was both fairly injured AND had no augs.

Freeman, on the other hand, may have been injured, but was jazzed up with so many painkillers he didn't feel it. In addition, the suit he wore enhanced his ordinarily puny strength, putting him at equal setting with JC.

They broke away from each other, panting heavily. Freeman gripped his crowbar towards the base like a sword; meanwhile JC had his hands separated, holding it more like a staff. They stared each other down, sizing each other up.

Freeman took a step forward. JC took a step back. Freeman, another step forward. JC maintained his distance. The scientist suddenly lunged forward with the crowbar, swinging low. At first JC didn't understand why he did that, but then realized that Freeman was targeting his hands.

JC shifted his arms down, blocking the strike. The enemy crowbar reverberated loudly against his, and Freeman used the reverse momentum to swing his arm back, then towards JC's head. JC ducked down, then punched forward with his crowbar, shoving the rear end of it into the scientists nose. The scientist stumbled back, blood spurting down his face, his suit bleeping about the damage done.

JC was fed up. He was sent here against his wishes, to rescue people trying to kill him, when he was practically dead on his feet. He raised the crow bar over his head, and brought every ounce of his frustration, everything from Manderly to lack of sleep, down on Freeman's skull. The scientist slumped to the floor, glasses askew. Now there would be no one to fight off the alien hordes.

Suddenly, JC's vision was obscured by Pauls face as the infolink kicked in. "JC, I have some news." JC was about to interrupt on how this was possible, when he realized that of course, Paul could contact him via infolink since he was actually there. Obviously.

"There seems to be a room isolated from the rest of computer networks, in the 'Chronological Research Station'. Do you know where it is? No," he added before JC could interject, "of course you don't. Don't worry, I'll give you directions."

"Wait, Chronological Research? You mean they were studying time?"

"Right."

"So that's what's keeping this place in a loop? A completely different experiment gone wrong?"

"Impossible to say at this point. For all we know, the experiment went exactly to plan."

For the next half hour JC faithfully followed Pauls disembodied voice as he was guided through various rooms, stopping along the way to kill various monsters. By the time he had gotten to the Research lab, he had managed to pick up a new pistol, a shotgun, and a handful of grenades.

"Arn't there supposed to be marines or something?" asked JC as he found no signs of human life, even other scientists, around the building.

"I'm guiding you around them. I've got historical documents here identifying where they went, so you're taking the scenic route. Once you get to the time based research facility, I'll leave this security council and come meet you there."

JC approached a giant pair of glass doors as Paul signed off again. He went up and knocked as a gray haired scientist came up to answer. "What is it?" he demanded, flustered at being interrupted.

"Hi," JC said. "Are you setting up any experiments involving time at the moment?"

"I will be if the power holds, we've been having troubles all day!"

"Right. What is the experiment?"

"Basically, if it works, today will repeat itself tomorrow. Although I'm no sure I want today repeating; I've had the worst trouble with my equipment."

"You're not the only one. So if today repeats, how will you know it happened?"

"Well, I'd remember it, obviously."

"Right, but if time rewound and played back, it'd be like it was happening the first time, wouldn't it? You'd be creating an infinite time loop. Could cause some problems."

"Hmm." the scientist paused in thought, then sighed. "I suppose you're right. The modifications to the equipment to make sure I'm aware that the experiment is a success will take at least another day or so, but maybe it's better safe then sorry. Well, actually, if I adjust the input modifier, I have a much more likely chance of being aware of time repassing--"

"Schedule it for your next day off!" JC said suddenly. "I mean right? Who wouldn't want an extra day to kick back, huh? You could just read the report on it the next morning."

"Not a bad idea, but the administrator is breathing down my neck as it is... oh, to hell with it. I could use the rest."

"That's the spirit. Now, lock the doors here so that you're not interrupted."

"Another good idea. I can see you're a man of intelligence. A pleasant change of pace." The old man smiled and closed the door, hitting a button to seal it in place. JC sighed as the scientist walked away, then stared in disbelief as several small bright red holes suddenly appeared in his back. He pounded the door with his fists, calling out to the fallen scientist, but it was to no avail.

He leaped back as a slim middle aged man suddenly walked in front of him from across the glass door. The man smiled as he hit the intercom button with one hand, and held a small pistol in the other..

"Missster Denton, I presume? I'm afraid you're proving to be a nuissance." JC pulled out the pistol and shot several times at the mans head, but the glass separating them proved to be unbreakable. "Don't worry, I've asked some of your friendsss to help you passss the time." The man smiled, then walked away. JC hard a door slide open behind him. Turning around were the two men he had been instructed not to kill. They, however, had received no such instructions regarding him. JC dived out of the way of the first wave of shotgun pellets.

JC had two options; run away, and let the large area spray of the shotguns they wielded easily hit and cripple him. Or, he could attack them head on, and hope that he could take them out before he was lacerated. He spied a ventilation shaft over by where they were standing and formed a crude plan.

On a whim, he rolled towards them, then came up crushing his fists against their chests, putting everything he had into the double blow. The pair of them were knocked onto their backs, but quickly swung their weapons up to fire again. JC activated leg enhancement and leaped vertically through the ventilation shaft, then activated his strength aug to climb up the vertical shaft.

"Damn, he is good," he heard a voice below him say. JC came to an intersection and pulled himself into the horizontal duct, but not before he heard a hissing noise and a blue staticy light filled his vision. He looked behind him and saw a small blue ball glued to his over coat. JC panicked and pulled the coat from his shoulders and tossed it back down the shaft, hearing the small bomb detonate seconds later. He winced at that; his shotgun had been in there. He felt his pockets; one contained a hand grenade, the other had his pistol. Checking the animation, he realized he had only two bullets.

A hand grenade flew up through the shaft and settled next to him. He swatted it back down the hole and crawled away as he heard panicked cries behind him.

As he had hoped, he was able to find his way into the time research lab using the ventilation shafts. He dropped down into the room, looking around. First thing he noticed was the scientist who had been killed by the man in the suit. The only other things in the room was a large computer bank and another set of doors. He went over to the computer and started clicking around.

He didn't have much of a clue what half the physics were about, but he was able to tell that the experiment had been "running" for over fifty years. The time bubble around Black Mesa was being generated by a machine. If the machine breaks down, the time bubble will collapse the next time it is set to reset. Seemed fairly simple, really.

Denton stood and walked over to the solid door, and it slid open for him. Beyond it was a mechanical behemoth, a complicated array of mirrors and energy beams that formed, if one knew what to look for, a four dimensional topographical map of Black Mesa. JC began to wonder just how he'd destroy the device when he heard the glass door sliding open behind him.

_They must have hacked it,_ JC realized as he ran into the time generator room. He looked down as he pulled out his pistol and noticed for the first time a thick coating of dust on the floor.

A hail of shotgun pellets and plama bursts caught his attention away from his feet. The space marine came in first, holding a shotgun in front of him. JC stepped forward, grabbed the barrel, and jerked it up before his opponent could get another shot off. He raised his pistol and shot the marine in the neck between his helmet and body armor as another shotgun around blew harmlessly above his head, albeit ruffling his hair slightly.

The other soldier stepped in immediately after that, carrying some sort of alien plasma blaster. Again, JC tried to force the plasma weapon out of a useful direction, this time using his left hand to shove the gun right while firing the pistol underneath his arm.

The last bullet plinked against a forcefield surrounding the giants armor, before said giant swung his empty hand around and tried to punch JC in the jaw. Instead, JC ducked down below the strike and streaked past him, and whipped the but of the pistol against the back of his opponents head.

The unnamed soldier was momentarily stunned by this before he swung back with his elbow, nailing JC in the chest. The UNATCO agent stumbled back, almost tripped over the body of the dead marine, flailing, and in the process his arm passed through one of the energy beams forming a giant spider web around the room. JC looked at his hand in shock, or rather, where his hand should have been; instead, it lay on the ground, still gripping the pistol, leaving a stump for the nano-aug to defend himself with.

Not taking the time to come to grips with his new handicap, JC spun around and ran frantically around the room, looking for cover from the plasma bolts that rained around him. In desperation he grabbed one of the mirrors that reflected the beams around the room and twisted it, trying to aim a cannon of energy at the enemy soldier. Instead the man jumped out of the way and came crashing down on top of JC.

The agent landed on his back as his enemy toward over him, bringing the plasma gun level with his head. JC kicked up and hit the super soldier in the back then rolled to his feet as his remaining hand pulled out his remaining hand grenade. He pushed down on the lever and pulled the pin out with his teeth. That's when he noticed that the super soldier had switched from the plasma weapon back to the shotgun. With his nose practically plugging the barrel, JC barely had time to register the sound of the trigger being pulled before his face was pulverized with a hot load of lead. He stumbled back as his world darkened, and as his body fell to the ground, his grip on the hand grenade loosened.

Paul ran through the open door of the research station in time to see an explosion rock inside the blue tiled room across from him. A few seconds later, a powerful beam erupted from the computer bank, as one of the energy streams ate its weight through the wall. The computer beeped and started to hiss, and then the energy beam flickered and dissipated as power was shot down. There was only a brief sentence on the monitor of the computer when Paul went to examine it.

"End of line."

**EARLIER THAT DAY**

JC woke up from his doze as the helicopter sailed towards the Black Mesa Research facility. Looking out the window, all he could see was a decrepit old building with nothing to offer but a dreary time.

"This is the place?" he asked incredulously. The pilot nodded, the pressed his hand against his headset.

"Change of plans," the pilot announced, as the chopper swerved slightly into a new direction. "We simply have to pick up a recording box and bring it back to UNATCO HQ."

"That's it? They sent me half way across the country for a pick up job?" The pilot shrugged. JC fell back into his seat, mumbling.

When they reached the appropriate spot, a hidden alcove on the highest building, JC jumped out and landed next to a small metallic box. It was a rusted thing, but showed signs of advanced technology. He shrugged and picked up, then jumped back into the waiting helicopter.


End file.
